?HE "White Comrade 



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THE BOOK OF 
"THE WHITE COMRADE" 




("atherine Wilcox Nash 
\SffJt s /or the mothers' crowns of great splendor 



THE BOOK OF 

''THE WHITE COMRADE" 



'■^ Sent from the Throne above 
To help the ivatchers, with God's own love" 



By FRANCES NASH KING 



NEW HAVEN: 

THE TUTTLE, MOREHOUSE & TAYLOR COMPANY 

I918 









Copyright, iqig, by 
FRANCES NASH KING 

All rights reserved 
including foreign countries 



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OCT -2 laia 



With abiding love, to my own Mother 

Catherine Wilcox Nash 

zvho "yet Speaketh" 

And 

To the heroine Mothers 

of this war 

They zvho stand upon "holy ground" 

I dedicate this book. 



FOREWORD 

"Behold, I bring you good tidings, of great joy." Our 
Lord, Christ, who said in His great agony, "I am not 
alone," and assured His heartbroken disciples that He 
would not leave them comfortless, who said, "The world 
seeth me no more, but ye see me," and "because I live ye 
shall live also." Christ, their Comforter is to-day seen and 
recognized to such an extent that "The Comrade in White" 
to our soldiers, means a beloved personality, with whom 
they walk as "on the shores of Galilee." 

When asked "\\'hy must death come?" the Master 
answers, "Where your treasure is there will your heart be 
also." Many a man's first " Cry unto God" is, "Where, oh 
Where?" The name of the gate Earth calls Death, on 
Heaven's side, is Life. 

To-day our world-wide sorrow finds that gate widely 
opened, a growing multitude follow with seeing eyes those 
entering, they have "Ears to hear what the Spirit saith," 
and faces tell of meeting the Comforter. 

"To the colors" the word passes, and from the four 
quarters of the earth we hear, "Here am I, send me!" 
"The Man of God" a tireless soldier, was brought by the 
Great Physician Himself to me as I lay wounded, "Freely 
has he received, and freely does he give." 

We are "tenting to-night" comrades, telling of the day, 
trusting ourselves to our Great-Commander for the 
morrow. Just talking around our campfire, talking of 
home ! 

"Oh that home of the soul, in my visions and dreams 

Its bright jasper walls I can see, 
"Till I fancy but thinly the veil intervenes 

Between that fair city and me." 

The Anchorage, 

Madison, Connecticut, 
June, 1918. 



WAR 



WAR 

Trouble, trouble, everywhere! 

On the sea, and in the air 
Birds of prey swoop down from yonder 

Ships once fast now rent asunder ! 
Just trouble. 

Trouble, trouble on the land. 

From outreaching, grasping hands. 

Hands now filled, that want their brothers' 
Portion, his love, glory, riches with theirs. 
Always trouble. 

Trouble, trouble with the masses 
Armed with hate against the classes 

Blindly led, by leading blind. 
All is woe, no good they find. 
Drear trouble. 

Trouble, trouble with the women. 

Something here seems not quite human 

Turned into a picket fence, 

Lines not plumb, designs lack sense. 
Dreadful trouble. 

Trouble, trouble in the eating. 

One has much, the next goes lacking. 

Days are meatless, days are wheatless. 

Meals are served that seem quite worthless, 

Sugar's rising, coal's declining. 

What can we do to keep from buying? 
Daily trouble. 

Trouble with the burning buildings. 
Lit with hate, and fired by envy. 

Food thus taken from the starving 
Mothers of the race! who bore them, 

Suffered, loved, and prayed God for them. 
This is trouble. 



Trouble with the college students, 
Who no longer come to classes, 

But caper 'round the place like asses, 
While the kindergarten babies. 

Rising in united strength, 

Call for days of shorter length ! 
Added trouble. 

Trouble between men and women. 
The only trouble that is human, 

"Free and equal," all are crying 
Not two men while I go lacking 

To be pretty is quite shocking! 
I won't have it ! Do you hear me ? 

Votes we'll have, we'll never miss, 

Votes we'll have, and change all this. 
Presidential trouble. 

Trouble with the striking trainmen. 
Labor when the sun is shining ! 

Work this engine, might and main 

While that man just rides on train? 
Why should I work, get hot and tired. 

By those women I'm not hired! 
Legislator's trouble. 

Trouble sad and drear in homes. 

Envy starting, members shirking. 
Never seeing Satan lurking, 

Neighbors then their tales unfold. 
With their, do not tell, I told 

Just for friendship ! 
This the way and this the plan 
Earth's greatest sorrows come to man. 
Living: trouble. 



Six days went by, the Lord's Day fair. 

The sinners with a pious air 
Set off, with frocks of latest cut. 



The men with new attire to suit, 
In autos, taxis, cabs, or walking, 
Smiling and bowing, always talking. 
Arrived on time. 

They whispered and chatted. 

Talked loud and berated 
The methods of this one — the doings of that one. 

They wondered and pondered 

On names quite unnumbered 

And felt called upon 
To ask brother Jackson, to rise and explain. 

They couldn't quite see why 

The Red Cross should go by 
The route it had chosen to reach the French shore. 
It seemed a mistake, 

They feared quite a break, 
From the Liberty loans four percentage or more! 

They had given up dinner, 
And daily grew thinner, 
To help all they could, in this very great cause. 
While Mrs. O'Hara, wife of the mayor, ate 
French fries, and good beefsteak. 
Entrees of sweets and fats, 
Wheaten bread, and butter pats. 
It really was shameful to break such just laws. 

They gossiped and chattered. 

Got rattled and flattered. 
Right up to the church's own door. 

Then quickly they parted 
Looked demure, and sad hearted. 

All ready to hear of the poor. 

******* 

The preacher, well beloved of all. 

The man of God, (God gave the Call) 
Arose, 



"My friends," he said, "great is our need, 
To God's commands, let us give heed. 

Our hearts are sore, our world grows poor, 

Grim Suffering waits from door to door. 

Let us give heed, and find the cause 
By looking into God's own laws. 

Our God hath given a beauteous world. 

To every one He hath unfurled 
Its marvels. 
The hours of light, for labor needed 
The rest of night, its darkness heeded, 
With lavish love, He gives the sun 
The sun which seeks us from above 
Then from its height, befriends each seed 

To succor all in time of need. 

Cool breezes blow — the air is rife 

With God's own blessings ! 
But dull the ear that hears not strife 

And many cursings. 
The firmament, God's handiwork, 
Is filled with shrieking demons 
The singing birds have flown, and birds of prey 
Fly forth, their song a requiem dirge 
So low they lay a mother and her child 
On verge of evening prayer. 
The glorious deep, made sacred by our Saviour's steps, 
The home of tiny folk, once in a miracle. 
Torn from all joy and fruitfulness 
To devastation ! 

Gone are those quiet times, but from a battlefield 

Come shrieks of conquerors 
With sobs and prayer of conquered. 
"The Heavens above, the earth beneath" 

Aye "even the waters" Hell calls own. 
"Oh Earth, Earth, Earth, how long?" 
******* 



The preacher looked into their faces. 

******* 
My friends, he said, the cause 
We now will find — in one of God's own laws. 
To me it seems we surely have it 
In God's own words, "Thou shalt not covet." 
Of this the ancients said, "The command of the hedge," 
For whoso keeps this hedge, keeps all commands. 

In God he trusts, no other Gods intrude. 
To him who covets not, his neighbor's good 
As seen in mirrored lake, so God is seen. 
In days of loving, and on mercy bent. 
Guiltless is he, of finding any vent 
Through use of this dear Name. 

His full six days he owns, and rising early 
Fresh from his rest, his brain and mind alert 

He soweth seed, 
At even time he watereth 
And lo ! the increase. 
And on the day of days, the Lord's, 
Doth he bring thanks, and of God's own returns. 

His days are long 
A mother's love — a father's blessing 

One grand sweet song ! 

He who plants well this hedge 

Doth covet not. all lives are safe, 
His neighbor's wife, his neighbor's goods secure. 
His neighbor's deeds of hate, and unblest kind 

Cling to the clod. 
Speaks he of thoughts that rise, that on bright wings 

Fly home to God ! 
So peace and plenty reign 

In Paradise regained 
Thus taught the ancients, — said the man of God, 

"The command of the hedge" 
For whoso keeps this well, breaketh no other 

And still this hedge protects 



Even Eden's gardens from the outer world 

Of sin and sorrow. 
My son plant well thy hedge 

And thou my daughter water it 
And "God shall give the increase." 

The preacher ended. 
With a loud "Amen." 

The people vanished. 
The man of God 

And Christ, who stood beside him, 
Alone were left, 
Christ drew him to His Heart 

And then — both wept. 



SOLIDARITY 



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From an old uotc-hook of Catherine Wihox Xash 
AutJior not sriven 



SOLIDARITY. 

"I 'clare to goodness," said farmer Brown, 
"When them city fellers come into town 
With their four-in-han' ties, an' their high up hats. 
Their ironed-down trousers, an' fancy spats, 
I says to my wife, 'Doggoned if I be 
Going to bow to such boys as I see !' " 
An' my wife says, "Jake, 

Go pick up that rake. 
An' make that path 
Like the other half." 

"I was a-rakin' that path, as in they come 
Heehawing and humming a cheerful tune. 

An' I looked 'em over, from outen my eye. 
As the four big fellers went laughin' by ! 

Thar was one, with a blue eye, like my boy John, 
Who sleeps under a cross, in a far-away town. 
An' I says to myself, "I love that eye," 
As the boy who owned it went smilin' by. 
An' I says to my wife, 

"Take care of him; 
Make his crullers good, 

An' his batter cakes thin." 

"He is our boy, has the very head 
An' the selfsame tread, of our John." I said. 
An' mother, she looked till the tears come down, 

At that city lad in our country town. 
She wanted to find how he looked when he spoke, 
An' how he sat in his chair when he wrote? 
She hovered around 
An' made his toast brown. 

An' before he could ask 
The butter was passed. 

17 



They stayed just one week, those boys from the city; 

We forgot about collars 
An' dudes, an' more dollars. 

For mother had John 
Right back in her home 

The boy God had sent for 
In our deepest pain 

He loaned us again. 

I felt my heart burst 

The day that we found out 
That John had no mother. 

We was settin' that night 

Whar the roofin' was tightest. 
An' the boys was a-yarning, 

An' the kettle a-bilin. 
When all to once, John, 

We missed from the room. 
Mother went out, 
An' worried, I foller'd. 

The boys was so quiet, 
It seemed the boards hollered. 

In a corner I found 'em, 
'Way off from the rest, 
An' John was a'sobbin'. 

His head on her breast. 

Her eyes was so tender, 

I minded the time, 
When John, as a baby, 

Became hers and mine. 

Thar's many ways thinkin', 

But to me, it's quite clear, 
That God seen they needed 

Each other ria:ht here ! 



An' up in His Heaven, 

Whar we go, one by one. 
In another dear corner 

Is a mother and John. 

When our war world we leave. 

For the homes that are buildin' ; 
Whar the sun shines all day. 

An' the roofs don't need shinglin' ; 
'Way off in a corner. 
All done with the dyin', 

I shall find — my two Johns, 
An' each boy 

With his mother a-livin' ! 



•9 



THE VISION 



THE VISION. 

"My beloved are tired," said the Lord from His Throne, 

"Draw the curtains of night, 
Shut out all the light. 

In the darkness alone. 
Sleep, my beloved ones, sleep." 

******** 
The guardians of the sun, brought forth 

His stately cradle; 
Full panoplied it ivas, its zvondrous gold 
Outlined ivith deepest red, its coppered hood 

Burnished, 
That the sun, lover of life, might yet again 
Look on the lives of men. 
Its canopy of azure! 
Thus the sun zvas placed, and silently 
The guardians of the night 
Drezv down its curtains. 

"Come forth, ye stars," said the Lord from above ; 

"The stars of glory, the stars of love! 
The stars that shine when the zvorld is dark. 
That bring hope and comfort to aching hearts, 
The stars that are sent from the Throne above, 
To help the watchers, with God's ozvn love. 

Stars of the night! 
Stars for the mothers, crozcns of great splendor, 

The mothers zvho wait. 
And the star of all stars. 

To guide the sons to the Hcaz'cnl\ Gate!" 

******** 

I found myself within my room ; 
The day was spent, the night had come, 
And as I sat before my fire, 



Thinking of things, now here, now higher, 
Methought 

I heard a knock. 
Quickly I turned — the door flung wide, 

And saw my Lord ! 

So spent He looked, so tired and sad, 
I brought Him in to make Him glad. 

Beside the fire I placed a chair, 
Added more logs, to make all fair. 

My crane I turned, my kettle hung. 
My table brought right to His side, 

The snowy cloth, with wheaten loaf. 
The flowing milk, and golden jar 
Of honey. 

In that small room, 

God's worlds made one. 

Did my Lord sup with me ! 

Later I sat — in Mary's place of old. 

Looking into His face. 
"My Lord," I said, "how oft have I been told 

That Thou art Love ! 
Where hast Thou been? What hast Thou seen? 

What means this war?" 

Then my Lord spoke. "My child," He said. 
And tenderly His hand laid on my head, 

"My child, I know 

Thou canst not understand, 
But what thou knowest not now 
That shall thou know hereafter, 

I come right from the trenches. 
Where I stay 

With my beloved, from day to day. 
Telling my love, holding each suiTering child 

In mine own arms. 
And with each victory won, — I place the crown, 

Then take him home. 



When safely placed. I turn again 

To find his mother. 
Of fights well fought, of faith kept strong, 
Of victory won in a race full long, 

I tell her. 
Then in mine arms I take her, 

Whispering relief, comforting her grief, 
Then I go to another." 

He paused, the lines of tenderness 

Were chiselled deep. 
I said, "Dear Lord, I know. 

For Thou hast also watched with me, 
Hast held me in Thine arms. 
Hast healed, helped, comforted ; 
It is because of this, that Thou art Love. 
I ask again, whence comes this need? 
Why is this war?" 

It was the Christ of Mary's time 

Who sat beside that hearth of mine; 
The all-compelling, loving Christ, 

Who looks in hearts, and finds them right. 
Simply, He talked of things Divine, 

Couched in the words of our own time ; 
Of the sad hearts, of these sad days. 

And how to help in many ways. 

He told me life was just a school. 

With many a hard and weary rule 
And vexing lesson. 

He said that souls were born above ; 

Cared for by angels all in love. 

Then sent to earth for education. 

That each might fill his special station. 
According to his merits here. 

That lessons learned of faith, and hope, 

Patience and love, would always cope, 
With other problems. 



And that He found, beyond all others, 
The best-loved teachers were called mothers. 

There are different courses of study in schools, 
Different classes, and varying rules. 
And many kinds of children. 
But each child has his very own place, 
His hours of study, his time of grace. 
Though the teachers differ, each one is needed ; 
Though days are sorrowful, each one is heeded. 

For this is the Father's plan : 
That the children sent here for education 
Should each be fitted to fill a station, 

A happy and glorious station! 
That lessons learned of faith, hope, love. 
Should qualify for life above. 

That God Himself brings the souls here, 

Placing each one in loving care. 
With some wise soul who came before. 
Whom mortals know — who understands 
The lessons to be learned. 

With lessons learned, the school days done, 
God comes again, and takes them home. 

Dreams we forget ; they come and go, 

Swift as the river's ebb and flow. 
But visions are, of all God's work. 
The most divine. 

Line upon line, 
Deep carving the great Master wrought 
Upon my heart that night, and taught 

The mystery of life below: 
From whence we come, and where we go. 

'Tis Love Supreme, 'tis Love Divine, 
This love is yours, this love is mine. 
No fear have I , all things are right, 
Since I that vision sazv that night. 

26 



ASSURANCE 



ASSURANCE. 
"As a mother comforteth." 

"Have I not cared for you well ?" 

Said my Lord unto me, 
As the days grew short 
And the nights grew long 
And the shrapnel whistled their dirge-like song. 

"I have given you friends." 
Said my Lord unto me, 

"The people of God 

Who tread the same road 
And bear the same load." 

"I gave you your home," 

Said my Lord unto me, 
"I demanded fair play. 
None could take it away 
When I said it should stay." 

"I returned you your health," 
Said my Lord unto me, 

"You had tried all the others. 

Asked for help, and all failed you, 

Called to me and I saved you." 

"I give you your food," 

Said my Lord unto me, 

"Like the manna of old, 

Of which you've been told. 
It all comes from your Lord." 

"Then can you not trust," 

Said my Lord unto me. 
As the shrapnel's hurried across the sea. 



"Believe in My love, 
In My power— in My care, 
And give up all fear 
For each coming year." 

"Your place is safe here," 

Said my Lord unto me, 
"In my home full of life, 

Free from sorrow and strife, 
Your place is right here," said my Lord unto me, 
As the shrapnel whispered from over the sea. 



Written October the eighteenth of nineteen 
hundred and seventeen, after reading of a 
probable naval battle, and from a balcony 
counting sixteen government defenders. 



ACTION 



ACTION. 

Just to do the best you can, 

Day by day ; 
Leaning on the Master's plan, 

Day by day ; 
Resting on His promise true, 
That He knows what's best for you, 

Day by day. 



RESULTS 



RESULTS. 

Light after darkness, 

Sun after rain, 
All that God doeth, 

Bringeth in gain. 

Seemingly wasteful, 
A harvest of pain, 

Really blissful, 

God's laws made plain. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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